Changeling Boy
by IDreamOfDistantSeas
Summary: Harry Potter is a boy of destiny. The Doctor knows this with both of his hearts. So why can he not bring himself to leave this boy in the home of a family that does not love him?  What I think would happen if The Doctor met a young Harry Potter.
1. unless there's children crying

**Changeling Boy**

Disclaimer: I own neither Doctor Who or Harry Potter.

A/N: This will most likely be continued, so tell me what you think. Any ideas about continuation?

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><p><strong>Amy:<strong> So this is how it works, doctor? You never interfere in the affairs of people or planets, unless there's children crying.

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><p>Harry Potter is a boy of destiny.<p>

The Doctor knows this with both of his hearts. And those chosen by destiny cannot be taken away from it. Fate keeps a tight grip on those that are tied up in it, and even The Doctor cannot pry those people loose, at least not without great consequences.

Fate will always catch up in the end, and it will be this child that would pay for The Doctor's choice.

But still, as the child weeps as silently as he can in a cupboard under the stairs in a place that he is not loved, those hearts both break.

For he is a brilliant, sad, and lonely little boy. And the Doctor will not admit even to himself that if another brilliant and sad little boy had been taken care of better, then maybe he would still have his best friend.

When the cupboard opens, deep green eyes flash in the shadows. Where most would see a waif, a changeling boy, the Doctor sees possibility. There is something in those young eyes that is already giving him a glimpse of the hero that this child will one day become.

Now all The Doctor has to do in order let this boy become that hero is to walk away. Turn his back, walk through the door. But… he can't. He just can't. It goes against everything that sets him apart from the rest of his race, every shattered piece that causes him to take the wide-eyed innocent humans that he loves so much to see the wondrous things that they never could have even dreamed of. So he leans down to stare into those life-green eyes.

"Do you want to come with me, Harry?" Even as he speaks the words, he knows that he shouldn't have. The Last of the Time Lords can feel the flow of time suddenly split, to warp itself around this moment. Every single rule that binds the universe together has been broken with just eight words.

But as the boy's eyes light up with amazement and disbelief and so much joy that his hearts clench, he doesn't care.

Damn the rules, and damn the consequences. They were just going to have to face them together.

So he takes the hand of that little changeling boy, and they walk out of the cold house together. The old man and the young boy who he would soon see as his son take deep breaths of the night air. It tastes of possibilities.


	2. far more than our abilities

**Albus Dumbledore: **It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.

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><p>For a moment, Harry is so overcome by what has just happened that he doesn't even wonder what is going to happen next. It isn't even until they walk up to a blue phone box that he even starts to wonder who this man is.<p>

"Who are you?" he finally asks. His voice is quiet, hesitant. Afraid.

Harry doesn't want to go back to the Dursleys. He is worried that this man will hate questions as much as they do and send him back. But the man doesn't seem angry, he seems pensive, as if he would also like to ask that question of himself.

"I'm sorry," Harry says, after a moment of silence, just in case.

"Never, ever be sorry for asking questions." His voice is hard.

"The Dursleys don't like it when I ask questions." Harry claps his free hand to his mouth. He hadn't meant to say that, to complain or seem ungrateful. He glances up at this strange man and flinches. There is a dark fury in his eyes, though it only translates to his face through a clenched jaw. For just a moment, Harry is terrified. This man has power in his lanky frame, the kind of power that Uncle Vernon could only ever hope for.

Harry is filled with the horrible knowledge that he has just ruined his only chance to get away from the people who should have been his family. But to Harry's surprise, the man takes both hands in his own and kneels, lowering his eyes down to the same level as Harry's. His hands are rough, Harry notices.

"Now you listen to me, Harry Potter. This is very important. I am not the Dursleys. If you come with me, you will see things you never will if you stay. Terrifying, horrible things that should live only in nightmares. There will be danger and fear and many questions to which there are no answers. But you will be loved." The man smiles and his whole face is aglow. He looks young when he smiles, Harry notices through his shock. "Now that, I can guarantee. "

The man's old eyes look straight into Harry's own, and he knows that this is his choice to make. If he decided to go back to his cupboard, the man will let him. He would be safe and warm, even if he couldn't be happy.

But Harry has never had a choice in anything before, and so this is really no choice at all.

"I would like to go with you, sir."

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><p>AN: So, what do you think?


	3. so much bigger on the inside

**Idris**: Are all people like this?

**The Doctor**: Like what?

**Idris**: So much bigger on the inside.

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><p>Harry was never fond of running before he started to travel with the Doctor. In the time he had come to think of as "Before" he had only run to escape, to get away from Dudley and his gang.<p>

Now, he ran for the sheer pleasure of being able to do so. He would start in the control room and just see how far he could go and how long it would take for him to somehow end up back were he had started.

His feet would pound down the hallways, past unfamiliar doors, choosing which way to turn completely at random. He felt safe in the TARDIS, like nothing could happen to him. In between ragged breaths, he would wonder if that meant he saw it as home.

But then he reached a dead end. He had never seen one in the TARDIS before, in any of his days of running. He turned around to go back, only to see that it had changed.

Three paths led from the dead end, where before there had been one. All led into pitch darkness.

He could feel panic rising in his throat. What if he was stuck wandering forever? What if he died and the Doctor never found his body?

Harry knew he was getting hysterical, but he couldn't help himself.

But then the light appeared. It was more golden than any sun and it pulsed like a heartbeat. Somehow, impossibly, all of Harry's panic drained away. He felt warm, comforted. His mind, for a reason he didn't understand, turned to his parents for just a fleeting moment.

The light moved towards one of the corroders and floated gently into the darkness, lighting up the walls as it passed. Without even a second's hesitation, Harry followed.

The light led him passed what seemed to be hundreds of crossroads and even more doors. But it never wavered in its course.

Suddenly, there was light ahead. Gleaming copper and glass.

He had reached the control room.

And the gold light faded out, leaving only the sound of a subtle hum that he could feel buzzing through the floor and his trainers.

"Thank you!" he yelled, because somehow it just felt right to do so.

He could hear chimes in his head. They felt like they were saying, "You are very welcome," though Harry couldn't be sure. Harry suddenly knew that that light belonged to the TARDIS, that she had guided him through her confusing halls.

She was…protecting him, he realized with a start.

"Harry?" The Doctor had come into the control room. "I was worried that you had gotten lost."

"I did, but she found me again." He can somehow sense that the statement needs no explanation, that the Doctor will understand.

He was not disappointed, the Doctor didn't ask who "she" was. He just grinned a sad smile.

"She always does."

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><p><strong>AN: Please review!**


	4. a pile of good things and bad things

**The Doctor**: The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things or make them unimportant.

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><p>Some days, Harry cannot stop thinking about his parents. He misses them, though it is different from when he was still living with his mother's sister. He is just now figuring out what it is that had been taken away from him when his parents died.<p>

What a family should really feel like.

Even worse, the word "doctor" keeps stumbling on his tongue. His heart wants him to say another word, and he's not quite sure how he feels about that.

"Um, Doctor?" The Doctor is fussing with things on the control panel. Harry had asked what they did the first time that he saw the Doctor use them, but the alien had said something so technical that Harry wasn't even sure if it was even in English. The only result had been a headache and a resolve to never ask again.

The Doctor hums a response to indicate he was listening, but his mind is still obviously very far away.

"Dad?"

The Doctor's head jerks up and he wheels around to stare at Harry, looking completely flabbergasted. It takes a moment for Harry to realize what he had said, but when he does, he stares right back. Suddenly, his face burns, and he just knows he has turned as red as a beet. And then, to his complete horror, he feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

He's really messed things up now, he knows. What would his parents say to that? He's replacing them, and is furious with himself for doing so. Not only that, but the Doctor is sure to hate him now.

So he faces problems the only way life at the Dursleys has taught him. He bolts.

The Doctor catches up to him before he even has managed to leave the glass floor of the control room. Harry is shocked when he suddenly feels himself jolted back as the Doctor puts a vice like grip on his arm.

He is even more surprised when he is pulled into a tight hug. The Doctor smells of custard, oddly enough, but with a mixture of metal from the controls he had been messing with and traces of something that simply make him feel safe.

That was the smell of the Doctor himself, Harry realized later, when his mind was not so addled.

"Harry," the Doctor says, "I am honored that you would consider me to be your father."

"But…but…" He can't even speak through the lump in his throat, but the Doctor understands nonetheless.

"You aren't replacing them." Harry forgets to breathe for a moment, wondering how the Doctor could possible know that that was what had upset him so much.

"I haven't told you this, but I lost my family too. A long, long, long time ago."

"Your parents?" Harry chokes out against his chest.

"Everyone. My friends and schoolmates and children. And ever since, I have been staking people with me on my travels. Well, I did before that too, but that's not the point. Every single one of my companions has been brilliant. And they help with the loneliness, and even if they never replace those I've lost, they have started to heal me."

"Have I been brilliant?" Harry wants to think that he has helped the Doctor, though he knows nothing he can ever do will thank the Doctor enough for what he has done for Harry.

"Yes, yes you have."

"Thank you…Dad." And the Doctor knows he is not just saying thank you for the comforting words.

"Thank you, Harry."


End file.
